


Not a Birthday Cake (But Just as Good)

by Mrs_Don_Draper



Category: Mad Men
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 12:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Don_Draper/pseuds/Mrs_Don_Draper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don and Peggy celebrate her birthday. Written with two alternate endings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ending 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [structure_d](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=structure_d).



> For the episode "The Suitcase."

"Come here," Don commands. 

His pants tighten as his eyes trace up her body from his position on the couch.

Don spreads his thighs and watches her take off her coat and hat and rest them on one of his chairs. She steps out of her heels as well. Her eyes never leave his. They're both watching each other to see who will snap first. She's mad, and there's a fiery red blush to her pale cheeks. He finds it to be unbelievably cute.

When she's done removing her outer layers, she pauses. Waiting to see what he'll do.

Don undoes his belt and kicks off his pants and shoes. All the while, Peggy looks down at him coldly. He likes like her like this. It's new, it's different, and it suits her. Peggy is and always will be fierce.

"Get on your hands and knees."

She's disgusted.

"No."

"No?"

She ignores him. Peggy sits down to peel off her sheer stockings. Massages her feet after a long day in heels. She smiles like she doesn't even notice that he's sitting right there without any pants on. He's torn between wanting to slap her, wanting to force her to her knees in front of him, and wanting to get on his knees in front of her.

Peggy is so damn smug. That condescending grin on her face. She pulls her dress up over her knees, widens her own legs.

"Get on _your hands and knees_," she orders.

Her voice has dropped several levels. She knocks back a drink from his desk, red lipstick staining the cut glass.

He's so aroused right now he doesn't even care. He crawls over to her, puts his hands on her knees and makes her birthday worthwhile after all. Peggy believes his apology from earlier. She throws her head back, hands fisted in his short black hair, eyes squeezed shut.

He pauses halfway through to breathe, and she opens her eyes. He looks up at her, like he wants her approval. Don's eyes are glassy and slightly unfocused, pupils wide as he wonders what she'll do.

She runs a hand through his hair again.

"Well, you're not a birthday cake," she says breathily. "But you're just as good."

Her smirks and makes good on the compliment.


	2. Ending 2

"Come here," Don commands.

His pants tighten as his eyes trace up her body from his position on the couch.

Don spreads his thighs and watches her take off her coat and hat and rest them on one of his chairs. She steps out of her heels as well. Her eyes never leave his. They're both watching each other to see who will snap first. She's mad, and there's a fiery red blush to her pale cheeks. He finds it to be unbelievably cute.

When she's done removing her outer layers, she pauses. Waiting to see what he'll do. Don undoes his belt and kicks off his pants and shoes. All the while, Peggy looks down at him coldly. He likes like her like this. It's new, it's different, and it suits her. Peggy is and always will be fierce. "Get on your hands and knees." She's disgusted. "No." "No?" She ignores him. Peggy sits down to peel off her sheer stockings. Massages her feet after a long day in heels. She smiles like she doesn't even notice that he's sitting right there without any pants on. He's torn between wanting to slap her, wanting to force her to her knees in front of him, and wanting to get on his knees in front of her.

"You heard me. No."

Then the ice queen deigns to answer.

She secretly delights in being able to pick him apart and play him. He does it to her all the time. Should she enjoy it too? She likes being the one in control for a change. Peggy crosses her arms. She's in her stockinged feet, arms akimbo, nose wrinkled like she's smelled something bad.

He jumps up from the couch and grabs her hair, pulling her downwards until she has to drop to the floor or risk losing a large quantity of hair. The breath is knocked out of her. He's out to teach a lesson. Tears of pain and shock prick the back of her eyes; she bites her lip to hold them back.

He leans in close to her ear.

"You don't want me as an enemy." A pause. Then, in a deadly whisper, "Get on your hands and knees."

She releases a shaky breath and carefully puts her hands in front of her. Don lets go of her hair and moves back to get a better look at her. She's shattered. Her mascara runs from the corners of her eyes, her eyes have glazed over. Her unnaturally red lips are slightly open. Her dress is bunched up at the hips, revealing tan garters. 

But she's...not the picture of sex Don thought she would be. He broke her.

The lines of tension in his face melt and his shoulder relax; he unclenches his fists.

"Peggy..."

She doesn't answer or even look at him.

"Peggy?"

He reaches out a tentative hand. She flinches. Turns her head.

"What, Don?"

He can't think of a damn thing to say.

"Peggy, you--you can...go. Your boyfriend..."

She nods emotionlessly.

"Yes, Don."

He helps her up, and she puts on her shoes, coat, and hat.

When she gets to the door, he says, "Happy Birthday."

Another tear falls from her eye, and he wants to wipe it away.

She walks out, and the moment is lost.


End file.
